His Princess Bride: Femail Military Vet Series, #2

By Nikki Jackson

 

He's a jaded single dad.  She's a wounded ex-military vet.  Can a bright-eyed little girl bring these two lonely hearts together?

 

Belle's just in town long enough to handle some family business then she's back on the road, trying to outrun a past that has haunted her for years.

 

Grant's life revolves around his sweet six-year-old daughter Maddie.  Still rebuilding their lives after his ex-wife walked out on them both, Grant has no desire to put himself or his precious daughter through anything like that again. 

 

The first time Maddie meets Belle, Belle is dressed in an old frilly prom dress and shimmering from a mishap with a container of sprinkles.  Her father Grant thinks she's a kook.  Maddie thinks she's a fairy princess and the perfect mommy material. 

 

Clean, small town, single father, wounded female vet, no cliffhanger, guaranteed HEA

This is book 2 in the Female Military Vet Series. Each one can be read as a complete standalone, in no particular order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nikki Jackson
• Release date: Nov 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215355886

Nikki Jackson

When she’s not cutting up with her sisters you can find Nikki hovering over her keyboard imagining the next book, series, great American novel, and fantasying what it would all look like on the big screen.  Nikki’s favorite adage - “Why just shoot for the moon when you can dream to the universe and beyond.”

Book preview

Chapter One

Belle McKenna sat muttering, ruing the moment she stepped foot on Suenoteague Island, a small town off the coast of Virginia. The curse on her trip began with the airline overbooking her flight; then bumping her which forced her to take the last flight of the day. Then, they lost her luggage. Thank goodness she had a change of underwear and toiletries in her backpack, and she had refused to check her bow bag.  At least her prized Viking bow hadn’t been lost as well. 

Belle looked at her watch, and moaned loudly. The competition would be starting in less than an hour. She would still be able to make it, she told herself, if someone rescued her in the next few minutes.

Grant Jacobs had been rip fishing with his daughter Maddie when the distress call came over the marine radio. A dinghy was sinking off the coast, and the sole passenger had made the emergency call before the cell connection was lost. Grant had received the coordinates and was speeding to the rescue. 

Belle heard the boat’s engine, and she stood giving a whoop and pumping her fist in the air. If she could convince the boat’s skipper to give her a lift up the coast, she would just make the competition. 

Grant peered through the window, not really sure what he was seeing. He knew he was in the right spot because the coordinates were to a local mooring anchor. He had expected to find a partially submerged dinghy and a hysterical passenger.  He was not prepared for the spectacle in front of him - a woman standing on the bright yellow mooring anchor, dressed in a formal gown, waving a big leather bag over her head. 

Daddy, I think I see a mermaid, Maddie said from her position in the captain’s chair.

There’s no such thing as mermaids, pumpkin, Grant said, slowing the boat. At the ripe old age of thirty-three he had long ago put away fanciful daydreams and childhood notions, though he tolerated them; begrudgingly, in his six-year-old daughter.

Maddie rolled her blue eyes and sighed. Daddy, she groaned, do you even see what I see? Maddie was sitting on her knees in the captain’s chair while Grant stood just behind her at the large wooden paddle wheel. Princess Madison was a decommissioned tugboat Grant bought and spent the better part of two years refurbishing from the inside out. Though the outside of the tug still held its tugboat shape and character, the steering station, as well as the cabin area below deck, rivaled any small luxury yacht. 

The pilot house’s steering station had been upgraded with state of the art equipment necessary to navigate the tug safely in any waters and under any conditions: the latest GPS navigational system, radar, charting system, high grade communications system, magnetic compass as well as light and sound signaling devices. Though there was a standard wheel in front of the captain’s chair, Grant had installed the larger pirate’s wheel as Maddie named it, and it was his favorite mode of steering the boat. 

Just behind the pilot house was an area Grant had designed especially for Maddie. It had an oak wood floor, teak veneer paneled siding, and a stow-away oak table that was hidden just under the high back padded bench seat. When raised, the two telescoping legs, recessed in the floor, held the table locked in place. On the other side of the area was a small flat screen TV sitting on top of a mahogany entertainment console. It held a DVD player with countless DVDs, books, and other toys and games to entertain Maddie on long trips. 

As the tug neared the mooring anchor, Grant found it challenging to keep his mind on slowing the craft and angling it safely to the wide stationed moor. Though he couldn’t make out the woman’s features, he could see the blue gown and shiny dark auburn hair. Between the bright sun and the calm shimmering water, the dreamlike vision in front of him seemed to glisten with shiny colorful specks. An odd feeling of anticipation seized his chest. Get a grip, you’re acting as loopy as a six-year-old, he silently chided himself. 

Belle was waving. Hello! 

Hello! Maddie yelled out of the opened side window. It is a mermaid, Daddy! And, she talks! Maddie jumped out of her seat and ran to the rear of the tug before her father could respond.

You hold onto the railing! Grant yelled as he slowly angled closer to the anchor. The entire tug was rimmed with a sturdy iron railing Grant had installed as a protective measure for his young daughter. What in the world... He breathed. 

Hi, my name is Maddie, are you a mermaid?

Grant had angled the rear of the tug to just a few feet from the anchor. 

I don’t have a big fin, I have feet, so I guess not. Belle smiled. 

I’m backing up to you! Grant called out, keeping an eye out the side window. Do you think you can lean over and hop aboard?

Sure, let me know when!

Grant turned the wheel in both directions as he expertly maneuvered the tug as close to the anchor as he dared. He knew the brunt of the mooring anchor’s structure was below water, attached to the lake’s bottom with iron static legs and heavy-duty chains. How about now?

That’s fine, Belle called out to Grant. I’m going to hand you my bag, she said to Maddie. Don’t lean over the railing, let me hand it out to you, okay?

Okay. Maddie smiled. Belle leaned over and grabbed the tug’s railing with her left hand. Here, take it, she said, passing the soft leather bag to Maddie. The bag was nearly three feet long, and Maddie handled it awkwardly, stumbling backward. Belle grimaced and breathed a sigh of relief when Maddie regained her footing. It would be just her luck if the child slipped and damaged her bow.

Stand back out of the way, Belle cautioned. Then she grabbed the tug’s railing in both hands and gracefully leapt over, gown and all. 

Let me take that, Belle said, taking the bow bag from Maddie and setting it on the deck beside her. Then she turned back to the cute little strawberry blond who was staring at her with wide-eyed amazement. Belle could only imagine how she looked to the little girl, dressed in her old prom dress and covered with purple, blue, and silver glitter.

You’re a princess, aren’t you? Maddie smiled hopefully. The little girl radiated unhinged energy and looked about ready to explode.

Belle’s smile widened. Dressed in the decades old gaudy prom dress, she guessed she might look like a princess to a little girl. In reality she was twenty-eight years old and had been on her way to a Virginia Viking reenactment group gathering when the dinghy she borrowed from an old friend of her father’s started taking on water. She was barely able to make it to the moored anchor before it sank. 

Belle had discovered the Virginia branch of the National Vikings of North America after a friend coaxed her into attending their annual festival the previous year in Sacramento. The attendees had been encouraged to dress in Viking garb, and she’d actually had fun. When she received a postcard alerting her the Virginia branch of the group would be meeting at Nilsson’s Isle in March, Belle decided to attend. The timing coordinated with her having to return to her childhood home of Suenoteague Island to handle family business.

Her custom-made Viking dress had been lost along with her luggage. She hadn’t wanted to attend the gathering wearing jeans and a t-shirt, so the old prom dress was the best replacement she could find. The soft blue gown was sleeveless, had a pleated bodice, and a full skirt of shimmering, blue tulle. As for the glitter, Belle had climbed on a chair looking for a particular necklace. She didn’t find the necklace, but she did find a box of craft items which included bags of glitter. When the box fell on her head it opened and covered her with the tiny colorful flecks. She’d brushed off as much as she could, but her hair and dress were still a little sparkly.

Grant pulled the tug a safe distance from the mooring anchor before shutting down the engines. Then he joined Maddie and Belle at the rear of the tug.

She’s a princess, Daddy. Maddie beamed. Belle turned to see Maddie’s father standing there and staring at her with the most incredulous look on his face. Belle frowned a bit.  In a matter of seconds she’d gone from being a fairy princess to a nutcase. 

Conflicted, Grant struggled to make sense of the image in front of him. He’d long put aside any belief in princesses; his ex-wife had seen to that, yet he had no other description for the woman standing before him. It wasn’t the dress that had him questioning his former belief, or the fact she seemed to be sparkling, it was her beautiful face - oval with almond shaped eyes, arched thick eyebrows, a beautiful wide nose, and full red lips. She had long deep auburn colored hair pulled in a single braid down her back and bright grey eyes. 

There’s no such thing as a princess, pumpkin, he said, pulling his eyes away from Belle. 

Belle grimaced at his offhand response to the little girl’s fancies. How old are you, Maddie? she asked. She wanted to know at what age a parent expected a child to give up a whimsical imagination.

I’m six, Maddie said, smiling from ear to ear. She took a step closer to Belle and pensively touched her dress. 

Belle giggled at the look of wonder on the little girl’s face. At a little under four feet tall, Maddie was slight, with a curly mop of shoulder length strawberry blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a wide toothy grin that showed off a cute set of dimples. Belle thought she was adorable.

Are you going to a ball? Maddie asked. She clasped both her hands under her chin as if waiting for an exciting answer. 

Belle laughed and kneeled down to speak directly to her. No, I’m not. I’m going to a Viking picnic with friends. And, excuse my manners, my name is Belle. 

Maddie took in a long breath and her eyes widened. "Belle? Like Beauty and the Beast Belle?!" 

Well, we have the same name, but we’re not related. Belle smiled. 

Maddie smiled back, then tentatively reached out to run her hands across Belle’s gown. She was kneeling next to Maddie and the skirt of her dress had gathered in a poufy circle around her. It’s beautiful. Maddie gushed. Though she was wearing a bright pink t-shirt and jeans, and her hair was a mopped mess, Belle felt there was a girly-girl inside there somewhere. You have a tattoo! Maddie gasped, pointing to Belle’s right shoulder.

Grant frowned and took a step closer. Dressed in a ball gown and sporting a tattoo? I’ve got to get her off this boat ASAP!

It’s not a tattoo, Belle said turning so Maddie could get a better view. It’s a birthmark.

Maddie leaned over a bit to get a better look. It looks like a flower with petals, and you were born this way?

Me, my mother, and my grandmother, we all have the same birthmark. Mine is on my shoulder, my mother’s was on her back, and my grandmother’s was on her thigh. It looks like a lotus flower, doesn’t it? The small birthmark was slightly purple in color and less than an inch in diameter.

Wow. Maddie breathed, "It’s like the magical golden flower in Tangled.  Instead of being painted on walls and curtains it’s painted on you! And, you have long hair too like Rapunzel, only yours is like chocolate! Daddy, she’s like Beauty and the Beast and Tangled!"

Grant folded his arms across his chest and didn’t even bother to mask the scowl. Is there someplace we can drop you? 

Belle slowly rose to her feet, meeting his scowl with one of her own. She refused to be intimidated by him, figuring her 5’7" stood just fine against his solid six feet. He had dirty blond hair that was shorter on the sides and mussed on top, deep set blue eyes, and a short-trimmed beard. His nose was slightly flat along the bridge, as if it had been broken at one time, and instead of detracting from his looks it gave him a bit of a rugged hunk type appearance.

Did I just think rugged hunk? Well, I guess you can toss me overboard, Belle quipped. I can swim over to the anchor, and wait for the next tug to come sailing by.

Daddy, no! She’s magical!

Magical? She’s a weird lady in the middle of the lake dressed in a ball gown and covered with sparkles, he thought.

Let’s take her home with us, Maddie begged.

Are you crazy? She could be a mad lunatic!

Is a lunatic a kind of fairy princess?

In spite of herself Belle laughed, and Grant was suddenly distracted by her sweet laugh and sparkling grey eyes.

If you would just take me up the coast, over to Nilsson’s Isle, that would be fine, Belle said. 

Grant raised an eyebrow. He’d heard of the Viking gatherings at Nilsson’s Isle and had even attended one with his brother-in-law, Spence. Everyone dressed in old Viking get-up, spoke in weird English, and spent the day eating strange food and trying to beat one another in endless contests and games. Though mildly entertaining, he found the group way too seriously into their little dress-up party. 

Well, that explains a lot, Grant said. 

Meaning...? Belle asked, giving him her level-two scowl.

This crazy get-up, he said, motioning to her dress. So, they’re having some type of beauty pageant over there or what? 

Belle put her hands on her hips. Really? So, you take one look at me and just assume I’m dressed for a beauty pageant as opposed to oh, I don’t know...maybe an archery competition?

You’re kidding? Dressed in that sissy get up?

Daddy! She’s beautiful. 

Grant rolled his eyes.

Belle took a deep breath, cooling her Irish temper. If you must know, it’s an open contest for both males and females, which I intend to win wearing this sissy get up.

Are you going to shoot arrows? Maddie interrupted.

Right into a target, Belle said with her hands on her hips. Right into the bull’s eye, she added, leveling her gaze at Grant. 

Well then we better be off. I wouldn’t want you to lose the competition and have an excuse that being late threw you off your game. He turned his back and strolled toward the pilot’s station before Belle could come up with an insult to fling at him. 

Belle was just about to gather up the skirt of the dress and follow him when she felt a tug at her arm. 

Is the bow and arrow in there? Maddie asked, pointing to the bow bag. Her eyes were so wide, and the question held a child-like excitement that melted a bit of Belle’s heart. She reached out and stroked the child’s wild curls before pulling her hand away. Don’t go getting all sappy; she’s just a little imp with an over active imagination, Belle told herself, but something warmed in her heart anyway. She couldn’t believe how quickly Maddie was getting to her. 

Just the bow, Belle responded. I’ll get arrows at the competition. Would you like to see the bow?

Maddie nodded furiously, and the curls danced around her head adding a cute frame to her face. 

Grant looked over his shoulder when he heard Belle’s laugher. He groaned. He’d never heard what he’d term as a melodious laugh before, but if he had to classify his strange passenger’s laugh, sweetly musical would be the perfect term. She had a beautiful laugh.

Just get to the Isle, and get her off the boat, Grant told himself as he focused on steering. The last thing you need is a prissy, stuck-up female in your life. Kate taught you that a beautiful face masks a vain, self-absorbed, cold and selfish heart, and I won’t put Maddie through anything like that again...or me, he added, sadly.

Belle placed the bow bag on the padded bench